


It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Traumatizes an AI

by Megan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Casual Sex, Cock Rings, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Held Down, Implied Voyeurism, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, Naked/Clothed, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outer Space, Safer Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:50:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megan/pseuds/Megan
Summary: On the sliding scale of bad decisions, picking up a hitchhiker definitely starts out somewhere in the vicinity of wearing flashy, expensive jewelry into a seedy port. It has since settled down nicely into something more like making eye contact with the one guy in the bar who wants to tell you all about his unbelievable, revolutionary doctoral thesis.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> "Sass and filth in outer space" is my JAM, so thank you for giving me the opportunity to write it.

Noah wants it on the record that he does not make terrible decisions. Which sounds like something that someone who does make poor life choices would say, but not in this case.

On the sliding scale of bad decisions, picking up a hitchhiker definitely starts out somewhere in the vicinity of wearing flashy, expensive jewelry into a seedy port. It has since settled down nicely into something more like making eye contact with the one guy in the bar who wants to tell you all about his unbelievable, revolutionary doctoral thesis. His hitchhiker, Nazir, is kind of weird but unlikely to result in grievous bodily harm or loss of very expensive property. Which is good, considering that most of the very expensive property onboard his ship belongs to his employer, not to him personally.

Corporate overlords tend not to look so kindly on reasoning that went like _oh, but he seemed so trustworthy and we really hit it off at the bar, he was going my way and you should have seen how hot he was_. A corporation's idea of sex appeal probably involved massive profit margins. Which sounds like some people he knows, so maybe he shouldn't be so quick to judge the soulless interplanetary conglomerate that signs his paychecks and the sexual preferences he's ascribing to it. 

And okay, maybe the part about not forcing his hot stranger off at the next port-- letting him tag along all the way to the next major system, the one where he would park his ship in an orbital dock for an entire six-Earth-month work rotation and where it would be trivially easy for a murderous hitchhiker to find him again-- is bad decision making at work, too. But a two week solo flight on a self-piloting ship outside the range of any civilian communication systems was a special kind of torture, special enough that Noah had been one hundred percent willing to let a stranger who'd met the low bar of him on the two day flight take the two week flight without too many reservations.

All of this is completely eclipsed on the bad decision dinosaur's evolutionary chart by the fact that said handsome, hitchhiking stranger has him naked and tied to the rarely-used pilot's seat. His legs are free, but his wrists are tied down to the chair arms with a pair of belts from his own luggage.

He has no regrets about any of this. Is there such a thing as the opposite of regret? Because that's where he's at right now.

"How far back does this go?" Nazir doesn't wait for an answer before he hits the button to recline the seat. It doesn't go completely vertical-- the whole point of it is to meet regulations about having an awake, aware human pilot onboard to override the automated system in an emergency, so putting it into a comfortable sleeping position defeats the purpose-- but it goes far enough to give him a spectacularly boring view of the ceiling. "Nice. You sure about this?"

"Yes." It had been shockingly easy to put together the courage to suggest it, to proposition a flirty stranger looking for a ride and tack on _but what I'd really like is for you to have your filthy way with me however you like, and preferably surprise me within certain ground rules we set up beforehand._

And now here he is, ground rules negotiated and stripped naked save for his hair tie, a couple of button presses all that stands between him and having this entire affair recorded for posterity. Nazir hasn't even taken off his shoes.

"I had a thought, and no, I really didn't think of it until now. I wasn't waiting until you were tied up and naked to spring it on you." He holds up a hand like there's such a thing as scout's honor in casual kinky sex with hot near-strangers. Wait, is there? He's definitely not an expert on eccentric old youth organizations and how they apply to getting tied up and fucked.

If they do have a merit badge for that, then Noah deeply regrets missing out during his misspent school years.

"Well, now you have to tell me." Does he sound desperate for it? Fuck, he does. He sounds like someone who hasn't gotten any for six months because no one on the last mining station he'd recalibrated had been interested. Which is because that is objectively true, but that is not the point. The point is that Nazir can almost certainly tell, which is not the kind of powerlessness he's looking for right now.

"If you want me to surprise you, maybe we should blindfold you." The suggestion is barely out of Nazir's mouth and Noah's already nodding like it's an automatic response some AI tech has patched into him. He can feel how red his face must be and his dick is definitely a big fan of the idea.

"Yes." His voice comes out hoarse and wrecked already. "That would be awesome. Fantastic. Please do that."

He's babbling, but Nazir just laughs and pats him on the thigh. His hand is rough, calloused like he does some specialized kind of work that can't be trusted to a robot. _Expensive_ , that's what he feels like.

"I'll be right back. I saw a scarf that should work in the bag with the belts." Nazir's voice retreats into the distance, towards the storage cabinet where Noah had stashed his bags before takeoff.

He could crane his neck to follow Nazir's movements; it isn't like he's completely immobilized. But he doesn't. No, he stays right where he is, knees slightly parted and eyes on the ceiling as he imagines that he really is tied all the way down. It's such a shame that things like that really are too dangerous for real life, at least with strangers; his imagination will have to suffice.

When he hears footsteps come up behind him, he closes his eyes. The scarf falls soft against his face, thick enough to be an effective blindfold. Once it's tied, Nazir reaches back and pulls the band out of Noah's hair.

"Look at you, you crazy son of a bitch," Nazir murmurs almost reverently. Without the distracting sight of him, his voice comes that much closer to melting what little remains of Noah's self-control.

At least, it does until he strikes Noah hard enough on the thigh to make him jump. What's self-control? He's suddenly unfamiliar with the concept-- no one's hit him in ages, at least not intentionally. And definitely not like this, a perfect precision strike that sets his nerves on fire.

"Knees up." Nazir's voice comes out totally incongruent with the blow, soft and buttery. Between the voice and the slap, Noah is already trembling.

He does as he's told, drawing his knees up towards his chest but keeping them spread. The end result is that he's practically folded himself in half, mostly reclined and exactly where he wants to be: in an excellent position to lie back and get fucked.

Nazir kneels on the floor in front of the chair. Noah can tell because he can feel the breath on his cock, so perilously close that it would only take the smallest thrust forward to be in his mouth. He feels himself leaning into it before he consciously realizes he's doing it, his body taking the lead and leaving his brain to follow.

"I see that," Nazir all but purrs, close enough that Noah can almost feel his throat vibrate. He whimpers at the thought; he's barely been touched and he's already a mess. "It's too bad you didn't bring more belts. I'd tie your legs like this."

Well, the thought of having his legs pulled up and belted into place will at least ensure that Noah never goes anywhere without either four belts or proper restraints ever again.

He expects the slick finger that nudges past his balls and circles his asshole, but he doesn't expect it to stop. Instead of pressing inside for the cursory prep he expects, Nazir teases him: strokes at him, just barely dips inside, circles his rim with just enough pressure to draw out a shiver. 

When Nazir pulls back and there's the slick sound of more lubricant coming from a bottle, Noah lets out a shaky, relieved breath-- one that turns into a petulant whine when the single finger is all that returns. One finger teasing him, no matter how talented it is, is not what Noah has signed on for today.

"Don't be in such a hurry. We've got plenty of time to kill." When Nazir does push his finger inside it's only for a maddeningly brief moment. Then he pulls it out again and there's a sound of rustling fabric as he shifts position a little.

What feels like an elastic band on his cock-- his hair tie, maybe-- resting tight around the base is what he gets instead of the two or three fingers he wants. He groans.

"You weren't going to make it to the fun part without some help." Nazir punctuates his words with two it's fingers dripping lube all over him as they just barely breach him, and it's about fucking time. At this rate, this is going to be both the slowest and the messiest lay he's ever had. Both of which are fine as long as said lay actually happens some time before the heat death of the universe.

Noah bites his lip, which is a mistake. The prick of pain as his teeth dig in just adds to everything instead of distracting him from it, especially when there's a sudden, sharp pinch at one of his nipples. Nazir works it with the sort of forceful purpose Noah wishes he would apply to his ass. The two fingers inside him are still entirely too gentle, even when he grinds against Nazir's hand in an attempt to urge him on without asking for it.

Nipple play has never been on his kink shortlist before, but he's seen the light. Once he's back in civilized space and has access to things like sex shops and discreet shipping at reasonable prices, he's investing in nipple clamps. With any luck, he might not even have to wait another six months to find someone willing to use them on him.

When Nazir hooks his fingers in just the right way to make him forget he'd wanted anything different, Noah has to concede to himself that the makeshift cock ring had been the right call. He's falling all to pieces from two fingers up his ass and a finger and thumb torturing one nipple, and as much as he'd like to blame that on the six month dry spell he knows that isn't it. It's the fact he's bound and vulnerable and he doesn't know what's coming next.

The third finger turns out to be what's coming next, which makes him throw his head back and break his self-imposed resolution not to ask for anything.

"Please, like that-- _fuck me_ ," he begs, everything he'd planned for this crumbling in the face of the unexpected, interminable teasing.

Before Nazir has a chance to answer, the console beeps. And not with the kind of beep he can ignore-- this far out, a hail is either a pirate desperate enough to steal a tiny, personal ship or this system's customs and border patrol checking his clearance.

 _Fuck_.

"It's an automated customs hail-- we just moved into a new jurisdiction. The request is for voice ID, not video, so I don't even have to untie you," Nazir murmurs; he must be reading from the screen. The hand that had been working at Noah's nipple drifts down to wrap around his cock. "Unless you want me to."

"It's a drone, I don't care." Sure, there's a chance some quality control tech will listen to his identification in a few months or years, but that thought just makes his breath catch in his throat in anticipation. Will they be able to tell he's getting fucked open bit by bit while he gives his identification codes? Hell, will the tech recognize his name or ID or voice? He's going to be working on AI systems here for the next few months-- that hypothetical quality control tech might be a future co-worker.

While the connection opens, Nazir takes off the cock ring. Not losing it right then and there and coming all over his hand is pretty much Noah's proudest accomplishment to date.

"What are you--" he doesn't get any further before he has to bite back an absolutely filthy moan. The three fingers are back, so wet there's lube running down his thighs, and they thrust into him so hard his brain whites out into static for one glorious instant.

"I'm fucking you, since you asked so nicely," Nazir whispers, just in time for the frequency to connect and a recorded voice to ask for his identification code. 

He almost makes it through the whole thing. He's so close to the end, even with his voice hitching with every movement of Nazir's wrist. He makes it through _Noah Lee, assigned AI maintenance technician for sector A-23 mining operations_ , all of the corporate identifiers, everything. It's when he's going through the final identification string that it happens: Nazir thrusts down hard against his prostate, so hard that he loses control and screams, toes curling and cock twitching. He doesn't come, but it's a close thing; he's panting for breath and clenching down for more.

If he doesn't get something-- anything-- more than this soon, he's going to lose his goddamn mind more than he already has.

"Voice input for registered vehicle owner Noah Lee not recognized. Please state your identification code from the beginning. A second failure will require connection to a live agent."

"You want to go through this with a real person?" Nazir whispers.

"No," Noah manages to gasp. What he means is _not right now_. Surprise exhibitionism being a shitty thing to spring on a live agent without consent is the only reason he's not screaming _God yes, please_.

Nazir remains perfectly still while Noah goes through his identification code this time, but he doesn't pull out. The girth of his three fingers together is enough to be distracting all on its own, and by the time they get an all-clear and disconnect from the automated system he's squirming again.

"I'm going to untie you now" is the last thing Noah expects to hear, but it's what Nazir says. His surprise must show on his face, because Nazir laughs a little. "So I can get you in a better position, that's all."

He's unbuckled from his improvised restraints but still blindfolded when Nazir bends him over the main console, broad hands guiding his to a flat, empty space where they won't hit any buttons to shut off the autopilot or hail a communications frequency. Nazir lets go of him just long enough to unzip himself-- Noah can hear the zipper and what must be a condom wrapper, a bit of logistics that hadn't even occurred to him-- before his hands are back, holding Noah's palm-down and pinning him in place as surely as the belts had.

Nazir seems to be completely dressed still, the fabric of his jacket and pants warm and rough and teasing against skin that's sticky-sensitive from sitting sweaty against the synthetic-covered chair for so long. What isn't rough is the slide of his cock into Noah's thoroughly teased hole, still so wet that he feels the lube drip out with every movement. The first bone-rattling thrust sends him pitching forward, only the solid weight of Nazir's arms and hands keeping him from hitting his face on the screen. The second makes his cock jump, even without any friction to help it along.

"God, yes, _thank you_." He's practically crying in relief that after all that teasing he's finally full, every thrust bone-deep but so wet and easy that he can almost appreciate torturously slow finger-fucking. It's too much and too fast, which is to say it's everything he's wanted since Nazir had walked onto his ship and they'd started flirting.

Nazir doesn't answer him-- he doesn't seem to be much for talking at all during sex, except when he's telling Noah what not to do or asking for permission. Instead he moves faster, and that's all Noah's frayed nerves need for him to come harder than he ever has before-- he's never actually blacked out while his back is arched and he's screaming himself hoarse, but that's exactly what happens this time.

When he comes back to himself, he's draped over the console and still whimpering. Nazir must have come at the same time; he's gone still, but he's resting all his weight on Noah and panting for breath.

Does he still have a spine? Because he feels like his has melted right out of him and all over the floor. Getting up ever again sounds like a terrible idea.

"Wow." Nazir reaches up and unties Noah's blindfold. Noah can't quite muster enough brainpower to answer him with anything more than a sigh. "You all right?"

"Yeah," he manages to crawl through the fog of his brain to say. _Great. Fantastic. You broke me and I'm never getting off this console again. I live here now, and I'm okay with that._

The upside of being too fucked out to talk much is that he can't make a fool of himself babbling out loud.

"Good," Nazir murmurs with a nip to his ear. "Because next time it's my turn to do what _I_ want."

Yes, he's definitely making good decisions here.


End file.
